


I'll Remember You

by ouzell



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Coma, Crying, Death, Hospitalization, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:53:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouzell/pseuds/ouzell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jake was in a horrible accident, and must be put on life support. Dirk stands by him, until he's faced with a grave decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Remember You

**Author's Note:**

> Quick little drabble. Hope I don't make you too sad. :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

      Dirk Strider remembered when he had gotten the call. It had been a calm Wednesday afternoon, the blazing sun shut out by his curtains, cool air blasting from his air conditioner. Splayed on the sofa with a cool glass of lemonade and a bowl of popcorn, he was watching one of his favorite Jackie Chan movies; The Legend of Drunken Master. His cell phone had rung, and at his usual,"Sup?" a woman had immediately asked if it was him.

> "Yeah, what's wrong?"

Her tone made him uneasy, and he had sat up a bit.

> "I'm sorry."

A short pause. 

> "Jake has been in a serious accident."

    Jake had been walking to the local Walgreens to buy god knows what, and some idiot had swerved off of the road onto the sidewalk- and head on hit him. A hit and run. He was in the operating room, she said. That they thought he should be there, whoever they were. He had immediately stepped into his shoes and told her he was on his way.  
   Now he was in the waiting room, head in his hands and picking at his shirt anxiously. They were operating on him. On Jake. He didn't even know if Jake would live. What would he do if he died? If he were left alone? He shook those thoughts away. If he thought that way then he would probably start bawling or some shit. Fuck no. He grabbed one of those stupid 'Highlights' magazines meant for kids, and tried to focus on what it said. Anything to take his mind off of it. When he set down the magazine, the pages were crumpled where he had been gripping the sides. There was no way he was going to be able to relax.  
    The door to the ICU opened- that was where they were going to put him when his surgery had finished. Dirk looked up, hopeful. 

> "Dirk Strider?"

    He stood, the chair he had been sitting on making a noise at his abrupt movement. 

> "You can see him now."

    The doctor walked ahead of him, leading him to whatever might await him. He was alive. Thank whatever god there was. She opened the door to room five for him, but he hesitated. What would he see in there? The doctor nodded, and walked away. He walked in.  
    Jake was lying there in a hospital bed, a tube down his throat. There was a smaller one pumping liquid into his arm, and it looked as if every inch of his body were bruised. Bandages wrapped around his head, a cast on his leg, his arm in a sling. Dirk covered his mouth with a hand, keeping himself from yelling out in agony. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and spilled out onto his cheeks. He walked over to Jake, afraid to touch him. He couldn't do anything to help him. Why couldn't he do anything to help him? Droplets of salty water fell onto his boyfriend's hospital gown, and Dirk wiped at his cheeks. The blonde pulled a chair next to the bed among all of the beeping machines. Whoever had done this- whoever had the audacity to not even take responsibility for it- he would kill them. The tears on his face were no longer from sadness. They were from anger. They had hurt the one he held dear. Dirk inched closer, and gingerly took Jake's hand in his own, softly pressing his lips to his fingers.

    The doctors told him they had done all they could- that it was all up to how Jake would respond. He was on life support. A vegetable. A comatose patient. For about a month and a half he had been like this. And Dirk had been there, by his side the entire time. He spent every moment he could there. Roxy and Jane had visited daily at first, and then a couple times a week. The last time, both of them had visited at the same time.

> "Dirk, you're wastin' away. You can't stay here with Jakey like this."

    Roxy spoke in calm, soothing tones. He had stared at her, shocked. Bags had formed under his eyes and an almost blank expression was on his face.

> "She's right, hon. We all love Jake, but we love you too. He'll be okay if you leave for a little bit."

    Jane was as worried as Roxy. They were having an intervention of sorts- he could tell. But he slowly shook his head.

> "I can't leave him here. I can't leave him alone."

    They had brought him enough clothes, and he made sure to eat some food- though he looked like he could be half skeleton.

> "He needs me-"

    At that Dirk's voice broke, and he looked over to Jake. His eyes started to shine with fresh tears. He was surprised at himself. He thought he had cried so much he was out of tears.  
Roxy opened her mouth to argue with him, but Jane gave her a look. She knew they probably couldn't get through to him. All they could do was bring him fresh clothes and food. It was like they were visiting two patients at the hospital. Jane stood up to leave, and Roxy stood as well, casting one last worried look at her brother. They closed the door behind them, leaving Dirk to himself.  
    He had started to have night terrors. Sleeping in the chair next to the hospital bed, he would jerk awake, sweating and sometimes yelling for Jake. Yet he could never remember what happened in his dreams. He figured he didn't want to. Sometimes he would yell so loud that the nurses would come in, expecting something to be wrong. He would just apologize and promise it wouldn't happen again. But it always did.

    There were days that Dirk would blame himself for what happened to Jake. When he would be at his lowest, and would cry over Jake, telling himself that he should have been there. Should have been giving Jake a ride. Should have been the one hit by that car.  
    There were days that he just couldn't move. He would stare at the wall blankly, not even thinking. Occasionally blinking when needed. The nurses and doctors that came through to clean or replace would look at him worriedly. He didn't care.  
    There were days when he could swear he saw Jake twitch or move. Days when he would see his finger flex. It would always turn out to be his imagination. Once he heard someone outside the door say he was hallucinating, losing his mind.

    Maybe he was.

    And then came the day. The day that three fancy men and women who had PhD's and white coats and stethoscopes- came into the room with grave expressions on their faces. They observed the stubble on Dirk's chin. His unkempt hair. His most-likely worn-for-three-days clothes. And they took out their clipboards, and said exactly this:

> "Dirk, we're deeply sorry, but... we can't keep going on like this. You should make a decision- are you going to pull the plug, or keep him going?"

    Then one of them went on to say that maybe he wouldn't want to be like this. In a limbo of sorts. And he just looked on, emotionless. Of course he had to choose. They shared a medical plan. Brilliant.  
    They left, and Dirk stayed. He took a good hard long look at himself, at Jake, and the room around him. He held Jake's hands in his own, and cried. He was turning into such a crybaby these days. He thought about what Jake might want. What Roxy and Jane had said. Why should his life, be in his hands? Why did he have to choose? With one last, soft kiss on Jake's lips, eventually he did come to a solution. And he hoped it was the right one. 

    A few days later, Dirk, Jane, and Roxy stood over an open casket. Jake was laying in it, and he looked peaceful. Truly peaceful.  
    They were the only three that went to his funeral. It was a private event. Dirk had made sure that Jake wasn't cremated because he remembered him saying the he "wanted to be the most strapping zombie of the lot." What a dork. Jane's sobs could be heard throughout the church, ricocheting off the walls and ceiling. Roxy cried silently, hugging Jane. And Dirk? Well, he had already cried his fair share. The night before he had screamed himself hoarse, punching his walls until his knuckles bled, even though he wasn't one for too much violence. Why Jake? Why did it have to be Jake? Couldn't it have been him? Why couldn't Jake have gone on living his life, gone on a thousand more adventures? Because honestly, Dirk didn't understand why he hadn't been the one hit by that car.  
    As the casket was being lowered into the ground, Dirk closed his eyes, He tried to remember Jake the way he was when they were together. Laughing. Smiling. How cute he was when he was angry. How he would bite his cheek when he was trying not to smile. And he locked those memories away, Not to forget them, but to keep them. To remember Jake forever, To keep Jake in his heart as long as he may live.  
    And then some.


End file.
